A Mistake Worth Remembering
by Biff3r
Summary: Safety Drills are the worse. Wrote this a couple weeks back in the car. USUK- oneshot. Fulff.


Arthur groaned in his head as the teacher commanded them to place their cells in the tub he held in his hand. It was only a drill, Arthur reminded himself. But that didn't change the fact that turning in his cell phone was painful. He didn't have it on in class anyhow, he tried to reason with himself, but it didn't seem to help, as he still grumbled under his breath as he sat back down. Student after student crowded around Mr. Wilkins as he held out his little plastic tub persistently, as if demanding silently that everyone place their phones in the box.

Alfred Jones, captain of the baseball team, was last to put his phone into the box, acting as if he had to tie his shoe even though everyone could see that he was really just turning his phone off before he turned it in. No one could blame him though; they would have done the same if their phones weren't already off.

When everything was collected, the teacher did a roll call and asked everyone to read or sit pretty and kindly keep it shut. Arthur pulled out a story that a friend of his online had suggested he read a while ago. It was called _The Boy in Striped Pajamas,_ and it was a phenomenal read, even though it was meant for ages younger than he. He was on one of the last chapters, even though he had finished it before, going over everything in his head before he continued on with the story. Bruno, 9 years old, lived in Out-With, but everyone said he pronounced it wrong. His father was a Nazi Commandant for a concentration camp, and a large one at that. He stopped mid-thought when two pieces finally clicked in his head. ' _You're pronouncing it wrong' Gretel said, 'it's pronounced-' and then she said the proper pronunciation._ The Fury had big plans for his father, and that meant he was an important man. They never lived at Out-With; they lived at Auschwitz Concentration Camp. That's why there was a gas chamber, where Bruno and Shmuel died. He'd read the book twice now, nearing completion for the third time, but the realization of the historical accuracy made him sick to his stomach.

He decided that it was as good a time as any to put his book down, and just as he did, an announcement rang over the PA, signaling that the drill had ended, and that class could return to normal. He sighed in relief. Although no harm was done by not having his phone, having it with him made him feel at ease, even if he wasn't using it. Arthur lifted himself up from his seat, pushing in his chair behind him as he stood. He meandered over to the teacher, where he was handing everyone's phones out again. He noticed two of the same phones sitting in the tub next to each other, and stopped for a moment, deciphering which one was his. After a moment, he decided it was the one on the right, because he could have sworn he could see a scratch in the top right corner, and he knew his phone had a scratch in the top right corner. As he went back to his seat, Alfred Jones passed him, on his way to retrieve his own phone.

Alfred looked in the tub, seeing only one phone that looked like his. He picked it up, noticing a nick in the top right corner. _Damn_ , he thought to himself, _my phone got scratched in that stupid bucket._

Arthur walked onto his bus, taking his seat at the back before anyone could claim it was theirs, as high schools often went. He fished his phone out of his pocket, holding the power button until it buzzed, indication the phone was turning on. He waited a moment until it started up, and he looked down at the screen, only to be met with an unfamiliar background.

This wasn't his phone.

He looked at the phone again. It _looked_ like his phone - it was the same model - but as he took a second look, he noticed that the top right corner of his screen was scratch free. He sighed impatiently, _of course_ this wasn't his phone, he thought. Arthur shook his head, so caught up in his current predicament that he hadn't even noticed that the bus had begun to move.

As he walked to his house, he decided to call his own phone, rather than look through this phone's personal information. That way, he reasoned, the owner couldn't call him a weirdo and he could get his phone back. So he used the emergency call button, punching his own number in the pad. After two rings, someone picked up, albeit breathlessly.

"Hello?" They asked, sounding slightly hysterical, Arthur thought amusedly.

"Hello," he replied easily, "I believe you have my phone and I have yours by mistake. Who is this by the way, I'm Arthur Kirkland." There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line and a bit of shuffling before an answer came, although they sounded considerably more flustered than last time.

"This is Alfred Jones, and I was wondering how this scratch got here," a laugh slightly too loud and slightly too nervous was heard through the speaker. "So, uh, do ya, I dunno, wanna meet up and exchange phones maybe?" He sounded a little too hopeful for Arthur's personal taste, but Arthur agreed to a time later that night.

It was seven o' clock, Alfred and Arthur's arranged meeting time, at the park, just like they had planned. But Alfred was nowhere to be seen, and Arthur was starting to get impatient. Two minutes passed. Five, ten, and then finally, at an astounding twenty minutes, Arthur heard a panting and looked up to see Alfred running his way.

He stopped in front of Arthur, putting his hands on his knees as he caught his breath. "Sorry-" pant "but I wasn't paying attention and the-" pant pant "the next thing I know and I'm already late." He kept at it for a moment until his breathing evened out, and he looked up at Arthur and smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry, I didn't mean to be late!"  
Alfred looked rather handsome, Arthur decided. He was slightly huffy and sweaty, but over all well-groomed. He raised a dubious eyebrow towards Alfred, wondering what the occasion was. Alfred grinned at him, and handed back his cell phone, laughing all the while. "Well, anyways dude, here's your phone!" Arthur said his thanks, and dug into his pocket and pulled out Alfred's phone.

"I hope you don't mind that I used the emergency call button, but I didn't want to invade your privacy." Now it was Arthur's turn to be sheepish, his cheeks coloring a slight pink. Alfred just laughed however, and nodded his thanks.

After another minute or so he started to visibly fidget, kicking his feet on the pavement like a child. "So…" He began, "Have ya eaten yet? Cause if not, there's a diner down the road if you're hungry- my treat, of course!"

Now, Arthur was many things, but oblivious wasn't one of them. And he knew when he was being asked out. _So that's the occasion,_ he thought smugly. He looked at Alfred again, noticing his cheeks were rosy and that his fidgeting had intensified. Well, he didn't have anything better to do. And – dare he say it – he himself would rather enjoy going out on a date with the charming American character that was Alfred Jones.

The corners of Arthur's lips upturned slightly, a faint smile ghosting across his features. "Yes, I think I would like that." He wasn't going to fain ignorance to Alfred's intentions, but he wasn't going to deny them either. He'd had boyfriends and girlfriends before, so he wasn't new to the idea of a relationship. Arthur and Alfred hadn't talked much in the past, besides being paired up as lab partners in chemistry class, but when they did; they were both kind enough to each other.

A broad grin broke out on Alfred's face, and he looked like his cheeks would rip at the rate he was smiling at. A laugh bubbled up in his throat, loud, buoyant, cheerful, and not at all fake. "Great!" he chuckled, smile never slipping from his features. "It's this place called Starlite, and the food there's totally good!" Alfred smiled at him and started walking in the opposite direction, looking back at Arthur to make sure he was following. Arthur got up from the bench he had been sitting at and fell into step with Alfred, a slightly strained silence spreading between them.

Arthur wasn't one for small talk. "So Alfred, is this a date?" He didn't want to be led on, and he didn't want to act inappropriately if this was strictly platonic. Alfred faulted in his steps for a moment, but quickly continued on as if it hadn't happened.

"And if it is?" Alfred was quiet, subdued.

Arthur, without skipping a beat, replied easily, "then I shall treat it as so."

Alfred's smile came back full force and then some. "Thanks," he said.

Alfred's smile was contagious, he thought, a small smile painting his own face. "Don't thank me; you're the one paying for dinner anyways, I should be thanking _you._ " They both laughed at that, and the silence that filled between them wasn't so palpable anymore.

They had graduated three years ago, and they had met four years ago. Arthur recalled when Alfred had first approached him about living together.

 _He was fidgeting again when he approached Arthur, that's how he knew Alfred had another one of his ideas. "What is it, Alfred," he sighed. He was already used to his boyfriend's antics; they had been dating for a little over a year now._

 _"Well, I was thinking…"_

 _"That's not a good sign." Arthur cut in sarcastically._

 _"Hey!" Alfred said, pouting indignantly towards him._

 _"Sorry. Go on, love."_

 _"Well, since we're gonna graduate next month, and we've both been given scholarships, I was wondering if you uh, maybe, I dunno-"_

 _"Well bloody get on with it!"_

 _"Do you wanna move in an apartment with me?"_

 _The question had caught Arthur off guard more than he would've liked to admit, but it wasn't unwelcome. He smiled up at Alfred, a real, genuine, and happy smile."Well," he started softly, put in a tender mood by his boyfriend's fidgeting that had long since become endearing. "I haven't thought much about where I'll stay after high school, but, if you'll have me, I would love to." Alfred broke into another one of his famous grins; the goofy ones that made his cheeks look like they would split. Alfred waltzed over to him and swept him up in his arms, swinging him around while he held Arthur close.  
Arthur denied him at first, but gave in after a moment and returned the gesture, which made Alfred break into relieved and overjoyed laughter. "Then it's settled," he stated._

Yes, after four years, there was no doubt why Arthur loved Alfred F. Jones. He was charming, to say the very least. His laughter made Arthur's heart flutter and his cheerfulness made Arthur's bleak world seem just a little bit brighter. Indeed, Alfred, to Arthur, was enchanting in any and all ways.

"Hey Art, what'cha doin'?" He placed a chaste kiss on Arthur's lips, his hand lingering around Arthur's waist.

"Mm. Nothing much, long day?"

"You wouldn't believe it. Nothing I've gotta do now though, so I guess it's alright." He sat down on the couch next to Arthur, his arm wrapping firmly around his waist as he sighed in contentment. "I love you," he murmured after a moment, his faced pressed into the crook of Arthur's neck.

"And I you," he shifted so Alfred could lean against him more comfortably. After a moment he spoke up, "Do you remember our first date?" He felt rather than saw Alfred nod against his shoulder, and Arthur placed a kiss against his head.

"Yeah," he sighed after a minute, sounding close to sleep. "I do. It was a mistake worth remembering."


End file.
